Stigma
by Extrinsical
Summary: Because it was her own magic that she had called forth. Her very own hands that had slain. Fate Testarossa Harlaown killed for the first time when she was sixteen. N/F
1. Fate

Posted: 19/10/2007

Post MGLN A's/Pre-StrikerS. Spoiler-free...somewhat. Song available in LJ.

-o-

_**Stigma**  
Fate_

_"Dark Chariot"  
- Peer Raben, 2046._

-o-

Fate T-Harlaown killed for the first time when she was sixteen.

It was not her fault, but she had refused - and still refused - to believe it wasn't.

Because it was her own magic that she had called forth.

Her very own hands that had slain.

It did not matter that it had even been a _freak_ accident, when someone tripped over someone amidst the chaos, pushing and pulling in the confusion, the sudden earthquake and explosions, and her scythe that had somehow jarred into the neck of the person they had wanted to arrest.

A person who was frozen and _defenseless_ when Fate leveled the tip of her scythe close to his flesh moments before.

But no, that did not matter.

She had killed, and blood was upon her hands.

For the first time in her life, she did not want to touch Bardiche.

For the first time in her life, she pushed Nanoha away.

And for the second time in her life, she felt like she wanted to _die_.

But Chrono, her dear, dear brother; his words were sharp and biting.

_"You cannot die now; you owe it to the person you had killed." _

So she lived.

She lived, but she was not _living_.

-o-

She was not sane.

She had _not _been sane.

But she did it and hated herself for it, anyway.

Wreaking havoc and destroying Asura was a _sane_ option compared to what she did. Killing again was a more _logical_ choice compared to _what_ she did_._

But she did it, anyway.

She could have stopped.

She _should_ have stopped.

But she didn't.

There was silence in the room.

A terrible, terrible silence.

She had not spoken.

Nanoha had not spoken.

Neither had spoken for _hours_.

It wasn't until Nanoha's phone rang that the brunette did get up from where she sat, at one end of the bed, opposite Fate.

The brunette slipped out of the sheets that covered her partially, picked up her shirt on the floor and slipped it over her _bare_ body, before brushing loose brown hair out from under her blouse.

Blue eyes didn't - _couldn't? -_ turn to look at her. For the longest time, neither had even glanced at the other.

But now Fate did turn, and watched in silence.

Watched the slim contour of her - v_ictim? - _best friend as the other reached for the handphone, looking at the screen for one short moment, before pressing the device to her ear with a soft beep.

"...Yes? Nanoha here."

A soft, unreadable voice.

Always unreadable.

And the blonde watched.

The white, slightly crumpled school shirt hugged that slender frame loosely, but leaving her bare from waist down.

Fate could see the slight red marks on those legs, testament of how roughly she had treated her.

But Nanoha had not said anything.

She did not try to stop her, _had not tried_, had instead _encouraged_ it.

But Fate should have stopped herself, anyway.

Because sleeping with Takamachi Nanoha was not one of her acceptable ways to_ lose her fucking mind._

Killing for the first time was _not_ a forgivable excuse to go crazy and force herself on her _best friend_.

It was awkward and stupid and she _knew_ she had hurt her -- and stubborn, stubborn Nanoha never said anything to the end, and even after that. But actions never lied, and the way Nanoha had trembled and shut her eyes said more than words would ever say.

And Nanoha had let her, anyway.

The taste of the brunette had almost been addictive.

Nanoha's soft voice continued to float in the room, breaking the strange silence, and all Fate could think of was the gentle tone of the brunette's voice and how soothing it sounded to her ears.

Another soft beep, and the phone was placed back on the table.

But the brunette did not turn.

Motionless.

Burgundy eyes traced that figure. Watched the warm light of the afternoon sun wash over that body, soaking into pale skin, and thought she had not seen anyone as beautiful as her.

Fate did not know what spurned her to move.

She did not know what made her stand and wrap her hands around Nanoha's shoulders, crushing their bodies close; that clothed back to her bare front.

The brunette stiffened almost reflexively, a soft gasp of surprise escaping her.

Nanoha's hands reached out to touch her arms, hesitantly.

"F-Fate...?"

The blonde pressed closer, inhaling a unique scent - a mix of faint perspiration and Nanoha's own - burying her nose into brown hair.

And she spoke, asking a question that she did not even know was at the tip of her tongue.

"Do you hate me?"

Fate half-expected her to say yes, for everything she had done.

But the reply was astonished and disbelieving, Nanoha's fingers gripping at her arms.

"No! No, I..." The brunette faltered, and Nanoha's hands trembled. Her next words were a whisper. "...How could you think that?"

She could.

Because she did not deserve forgiveness.

Because she did not deserve her.

But no words could ever undo what she had done - _killed, raped -_ and she knew that.

"Let me take care of you."

She did not understand why she had said that.

She did not understand the meaning of her own words.

The brunette had paused at that.

"I...Fate...?" Uncertainty.

"Let me take care of you," she had repeated, hold tightening protectively. _Possessively_.

Another pause.

Hands squeezed her arms lightly.

Fate felt the tension leave Nanoha's shoulders, a soft sigh escaping, and the brunette leaned back against her.

"That's not necessary, you know," she had said, quietly, a hint of wry amusement in her tone.

Fate knew that, of course. Nanoha was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

But that was not what Fate meant.

The blonde had meant something, something that even she did not understand, but she knew she had not meant _that_.

"Let me take care of you," she repeated for the third time.

Nearly begging.

"Fate-chan..."

"_Please_."

Then Nanoha sighed, softly, and turned around in her arms.

Hands wrapped around her waist.

The brunette's face buried into the curve of her neck, brown hair tickling her skin, and warm breath was on her flesh.

Despite herself, she felt a shiver run down her spine at the sensation.

"...Okay," Nanoha had said, in a voice so soft that the blonde wondered briefly if she was imagining things.

The figure in her arms was warm.

-o-

There were times – and frequent ones - after her first kill, when Fate would wake up in the dead of the night.

The cold sweat that dotted her forehead and soaked her shirt, the bile that rose up her throat and the _blood_ that she kept seeing on her hands always made her rush to the toilet, vomiting sometimes nothing and everything; and each time she would wash her hands again and _again_ till her hands felt raw and red but _still _bloody.

One time she had even _punched_ the damn mirror, just so she would not see her reflection on it. But it had only backfired, because she saw multiples of her own fragmented face, and red - _blood_ - colored eyes.

Her hand had trembled with the sharp, throbbing pain, but she did not notice.

Her eyes tore away from the broken mirror, and to the sink.

And for a moment, she had stared at the broken shards of glass that were there, just there, and considered.

For just one brief moment, she _considered._

Then Chrono's blunt words came back.

_"Will you run away now, little sister?"_

Her hand that dripped with blood curled into a tight fist.

She did not touch the glass.

The next day in school, she had acted perfectly normal and cheerful, despite her hand, which she kept pocketed in her skirt.

And because Fate knew Nanoha did not buy her act, the blonde hung out with a few people all the time. _Avoided the brunette the whole day._

But it had proved useless, because Nanoha came over to her apartment (which was empty then, with her family out on duty) after school, and she had _not_ noticed.

When Nanoha cornered her and saw her messily (was she ever messy?) bandaged hand, blue eyes had turned misty, and the sadness - _the disappointment -_ that was so very clear in that gaze made her lose her mind.

Did Nanoha knew just how_ crazy_ she made her?

Every word, every quirk, every expression; everything about Nanoha affected her so _much_ that she just stopped _thinking_, and the last remaining shred of sanity was ripped away from her.

That was the first time Fate took Nanoha.

-o-

Sometimes Fate would still wake up feeling terribly cold and nauseated.

But there was a soothing hand on her back now, a soft, gentle voice that calmed her down; and arms that would wrap around her and keep her warm.

Nanoha had not left her alone for a long time.

No, not since the time she saw that bandaged hand.

The dreams grew less frequent.

But Fate was still merciless towards herself, and never failed to remind herself of how it felt to have her device slice through flesh.

Nanoha was oddly and strongly persistent in getting her to stop.

And one day, the whole thing degenerated into a full-blown argument (was it their first serious quarrel?), despite the fact it was more one-sided than anything else.

Somewhere in all the confusion and frustration, Fate finally could not stand it and just had to ask.

"Why don't you just _give up_?"

She simply could _not_ fathom the thought of Nanoha being _there_, trying to support her even after what she had done.

And Nanoha just smiled, a little gently, unrepentantly, and said, "Why should I?"

Fate had many replies for that.

She was just an artificial life being, a clone, a _fake._

She killed someone.

She _raped_ her.

She _hurt_ her.

Brown eyebrows had creased at that, and Nanoha reminded her calmly, _logically_, that they were all not true, except for the last one.

Fate was not a fake, as Lindy had told her once before. She was merely born in a slightly different manner.

She did not kill someone; that accident was just a horrible set of coincidences.

And it was _not_ rape, because Nanoha had _accepted_, Nanoha did not try to _stop_ her, and had _allowed _it.

But yes, the brunette had acceded, Fate had hurt her.

That agreement pierced into the blonde more than she cared to admit.

Nanoha was quick to continue, tugging her close, not giving her any means of escape.

"As long as you won't forgive yourself," she said softly, with beautiful ocean blue eyes so very intense and furious, "you will continue to hurt me."

Fate turned bolt still at that, and Nanoha took the chance to caress her cheek in a way that a best friend would_ not _do, and crushed their lips together.

Forgiveness.

That was something she had not considered.

The thought of it had not even occurred to her till Nanoha had mentioned it.

The kiss was rough and soul-consuming and Fate did not notice when she was pushed down to the bed.

-o-

Fate T-Harlaown was someone who had many scars.

Some small, some big, some visible, some not.

Some would never fade.

Or so she thought.

Nanoha always had a knack of proving her wrong over and over again, and had never hesitated to do so.

Some _did_ fade, despite the fact both knew they would never truly disappear.

But nowadays, Fate doesn't think about the blood on her hands.

She doesn't try to.

Sometimes, Nanoha would grasp her hand, thumb brushing over the faint scar at the knuckle - _from that time she punched the mirror - _before kissing it, and press that hand to her cheek.

And then there would be a smile, gentle and impish and beautiful.

It was always at this point that a thought would occur to Fate.

She could do anything and everything, if it meant seeing Nanoha smile.

Even to live, _truly_ live, when she did not want to.

-o-

A/N: This fic was inspired by a little conversation between my beta and I. I have very little to say here actually, though I think I should mention the fact that Fate has a much more higher probability of actually killing during missions compared to Nanoha. While I imagine Fate is an almost sure case, I believe it is still somewhat questionable for Nanoha.

On news of other fictions...or 'The Blue Sky', more specifically -- because I did not personally reply to most of the reviewers/readers then due to various reasons, so here, if they are reading this, do let me express my gratitude and thanks. The popularity of that fic honestly astounded me, and I did not think it would affect people _that_ much. And the fact TBS had inspired another two NF fics had caught me very, very off-guard. In anycase though, I am glad to hear that people have enjoyed (or angsted at) that little fic. Thanks for reading. :D

And where RoE is concerned, yes, I will confirm right now that the rating of the fic will be changed to M when I post up chapter 2...which would be uploaded by end of October or early November, I hope. Exams are fast approaching, so I'll likely to be very inactive...or very active, curse my habit of procrastination...where writing is concerned.

All in all, I hope this fic had been enjoyable...and reviews, of course, are always appreciated.

Till next time,  
Eagle.


	2. Nanoha: Part I

Posted: 03/04/2008  
1st Revision: 13/04/2008 (Beta-ed, and a thanks to Hoppy-chan for pointing out that error.. :P)

-o-

_**Stigma**  
Nanoha:__ Part I_

_"Dark Chariot"  
- Peer Raben, 2046._

-o-

She had been furious.

So very furious at Chrono.

And she had shown him as much.

Her palm had stung, and his cheek reddened and jerked to a side.

Impassive blue eyes merely glanced back at her.

She felt herself grit her teeth.

"How could you do that?" Disbelieving and furious.

Chrono hadn't tried to defend himself.

"What else could I do?"

"Certainly not tell her that she killed - !"

His eyes darkened.

"Do you honestly think she would have believed that?"

Nanoha's hands curled into tight fists.

When she did not reply, _could_ _not reply_, he continued.

"She's not listening to anyone, Nanoha. She's not even listening to _you_."

The brunette said nothing.

"So tell _me_, Nanoha," his voice rose, and for the briefest instant, Nanoha sensed the sadness and _self-loathing_ in that cool voice; and her anger evaporated all at once. "What _else_ could I do?"

She was suddenly cold, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

The rage that she had felt moments before had disappeared, replaced by a strange, numbing void.

She felt defeated.

Utterly and completely defeated.

-o-

Nanoha had not talked to Fate for a long time.

Not _truly_ talked, no.

The blonde was good - and getting even better - at being evasive.

She was also beginning to be an excellent actor.

Suzuka, Arisa and Hayate had thought she was improving, she was _recovering_, but Nanoha knew better.

Because there was no smile that _perfect_.

There was nothing normal about how _normal_ Fate was acting.

And Fate knew that _she_ knew.

How could she not know?

_Of course_ she would know.

But there just seemed to be a wall of steel around Fate, and no matter what she did, how much she did, nothing seemed to work.

Nothing.

Fate would just offer her that _damn_ smile in return for her efforts, and say she was okay.

And Nanoha was hurt.

Immensely so.

-o-

Fate seemed paler today.

Blue eyes narrowed at the blonde who _seemed_ to be oblivious to the stare.

But she knew better, and so did Fate; the other putting in more effort to _avoid_ her.

Nanoha noticed the blonde had her hand in her pocket every time she saw her.

And she felt strangely apprehensive.

Why...?

-o-

"Fate-chan."

Nanoha grasped Fate's elbow suddenly, almost taking that hand out of the pocket, but the blonde was faster.

The shorter girl had felt the muscles of that arm stiffen, and did not try to pull that hand out. _Because she knew she __wouldn't_ _be able __to._

Half-turning, burgundy eyes blinked down at her.

"Nanoha?"

Her gaze narrowed.

"You look pale."

"I'm fine," Fate said, head tilting to a side.

_I don't believe you._

For a moment, just one moment, Nanoha saw a shadow flit past maple eyes.

Then they were bright and clear again, and Fate squeezed Nanoha's hand on her elbow lightly; shrugging off the hold gently.

"I'm fine," the blonde repeated, smiling an _amused_ smile, and gestured. "It's time for class. Come on."

Nanoha did not smile back, brows knitting.

The taller girl sighed this time, and her fingers brushed over Nanoha's cheek gently.

There was a reassuring, _perfect_ smile on that face.

"You worry too much...Nanoha."

Nanoha knew all at once that she wasn't.

Fate's whole body had been crackling with tension, and her hand was clammy with cold sweat.

_Liar._

-o-

So how long would this game of cat and mouse continue?

Nanoha watched the light of the orange sun soak into the uniform of her best friend (were they still best friends?), and trailed behind her from a distance.

She knew it was useless to confront the blonde now, where they were out in the open.

Fate was all too good at being evasive.

And she _still_ had her hand in that pocket.

-o-

"Can I come in?"

Nanoha watched the masked emotion in those burgundy eyes, seeing nothing. Seeing everything.

If Fate somehow managed to not let her in without breaking that perfect _facade_, the brunette had resolved to break down the door.

No, Nanoha did _not_ care how much ruckus it would create.

And Fate must have sensed that, because she stepped aside to allow entry.

"...Mm."

Blue eyes glanced down.

Fate still had that hand in the pocket.

"Nanoha?"

Her gaze snapped back up.

A quick brush of red and blue, before Fate - _tore her gaze away - _gestured for her to enter with a tilt of head.

"...Coming in?"

The brunette nodded, and stepped in.

The apartment was strangely silent, devoid of noise.

"They are all out?" Nanoha asked, idly, in a sudden need to break the odd silence.

"...Mm. Kaa-san has some duty to attend to, Chrono is on a mission, and Arf's helping Yuuno on some matter."

"...I see."

The phone rang.

Fate glanced at it, and paused.

"Nanoha..."

"I will go on ahead to your room," offered the brunette.

"...Okay."

Fate retreated back to the lounge, picking up the phone, and for a moment, Nanoha watched.

The taller girl had a bland face, red eyes staring into distance as she focused on the conversation.

Nanoha turned then, making her way to Fate's room.

Normal.

Too normal.

Yet she couldn't shake off the terrible, terrible feeling of apprehension building in her stomach.

-o-

The room was as it had always been.

But something felt so very different, and Nanoha simply could not do away with the oddity she felt.

The brunette placed her bag on the desk, and surveyed the room.

Books were arranged neatly on the shelves, papers stacked at one side on the table, and the bed was made up.

The only thing out of place was the school blazer Fate had left carelessly on top of the mattress.

The room was...normal. _Perfectly_ normal.

Nanoha released a breath she didn't realize was holding, and pulled the chair out - only to knock the trash can down.

Cursing mentally, she bent down and picked up the fallen litter, throwing it back into the bin she nudged back up.

And that was when she saw a blood-stained white cloth.

What the...?

For a moment, she just stared at the fabric.

Fingers rubbed the material lightly.

Dried blood. Dried, and barely hardening.

That meant it was only just recently...

Nanoha remembered Fate's hand that did not leave her pocket.

-o-

The door opened.

"Nano - "

_Slam!_

Fate grimaced, her back hitting the wall painfully.

Furious blue glared into baffled burgundy.

Barely two seconds after the blonde had entered the room, Nanoha had pulled on Fate's hand (the one not in the pocket), pushed her against the wall, slammed shut the door, and pinned her with a burning gaze.

"N-Nanoha...?"

"Your hand." The brunette said, quietly, _calmly_. "Take it out."

Nanoha watched the flicker in red eyes change from surprise to _fear_.

"If you won't take it out," she continued, even as she felt her heart tighten, "I will take it out _for_ you."

The fear was growing in that gaze.

And the brunette almost wanted to laugh, sudden bitterness enveloping her.

Fate, afraid of _her_?

"What - " The blonde stopped, took a deep breath, and the frightened expression disappeared, apprehension replacing it. "That's not necessary - "

Nanoha's lips thinned into a fine line, and she pulled at that hand in the pocket.

Fate resisted.

Oh, she did, but the struggle was brief and short; so pathetically short that it surprised even Nanoha.

Wasn't Fate the famous enforcer who excelled at close combat? Even despite the fact Fate had only one hand to use, when did the blonde grew so _weak_ she could barely fend off Nanoha?

And that was not the only surprise in store for Nanoha.

It was her turn to stare in astonishment, and she stepped back, more of a reflex motion than anything else.

Silence. A silence so heavy Nanoha thought she had gone deaf.

She may have suspected, wished it wasn't true, but somehow knew with a growing certainty that it was _true_; and she was still stunned - because suspecting was one thing, and _seeing_ it was another.

Blue eyes could only stare at that messily bandaged hand. There was a faint hint of blood seeping into the white cloth.

And she felt her eyes moisten.

The bandaged hand curled into a tight, shaking fist; and the cloth turned a darker shade of red.

She reached out before she realized.

"Stop that," she whispered hoarsely, grabbing that hand, uncurling those suddenly limp fingers.

"...You're disgusted, aren't you?" Fate asked, calmly.

"What? No!" Nanoha's gaze snapped up to meet cold red.

The blonde tore her hand out of Nanoha's grasp.

"This is the kind of person I am," she said, eyes hard. "Shouldn't you be disgusted?"

"Fa - "

_Slam!_

Books fell to the floor.

The bookshelf rattled.

Nanoha could only watch, throat dry and locked.

Fate's fist connected with the cabinet next to her, and the wood was sullied a dark red.

"This pain," whispered the blonde, "is nothing compared to what I've done to _him_." _She killed him._

The brunette felt tears trickling down her cheek.

"This...this..._insignificant..._thing_..._" The blonde glanced at her hand, uncurled it, and watched her fingers shake; even as blood darkened the bandage.

She punched the bookshelf again.

Nanoha flinched from the sharp sound.

"Isn't this enough for you, Nanoha?" Fate said coldly. "Or do you want to - "

Another punch.

" - see more of _this_?"

And another.

More blood smeared against the wood.

And _another_.

"_Stop it!_"

Nanoha grasped that hand and hugged the blonde - if it could even be called a hug, with the way Fate went stiff and frozen - her voice shaky, hoarse, and _hurt_. "...Stop it...stop it..._please._"

"...You shouldn't touch me." Fate's tone was controlled; she hadn't moved to return the gesture. "I'm not worthy of it."

"That," the brunette said furiously, glaring into stony burgundy through her tears, "is for _me_ to decide."

Her hand reached up to caress Fate's cheek. "And I say you are," she whispered. "So please..." Her voice choked.

She couldn't continue, not with the way sobs were threatening to spill from her throat, not with her eyes that shut involuntarily and head that lowered when she felt her vision blur.

Nanoha felt her wrists being grasped.

Then she felt herself pushed backwards lightly, and she opened her eyes.

Her gaze met cool red for the briefest instant.

And then lips were upon hers.

"!"

Fate's lips.

"Mnmp..!"

Two hands held her wrists tightly, and she was suddenly turned around and pushed against the wall.

Her resistance was futile, and the moment she opened her mouth to speak - _wrong move -_ a tongue darted in and claimed her, taking in all remaining air, suffocating her, _engulfing_ her.

Never had she been kissed with this much intensity (her first _real_ kiss).

Their teeth clashed, and her head was spinning from the sheer force and hunger.

She couldn't think and instinctively she tried to escape, but Fate was suddenly _too_ strong and the rawness of it all made her weak.

And then it ended, just as quickly as it had begun.

Fate pulled back, mere inches from her own face, and that red gaze _burned_.

Nanoha's breathing was ragged.

She sucked in air, forcing her mind to come back to reality - and she realized, dimly, that her own fists were clenched so hard that her nails nearly drew blood.

Her mouth tasted faintly of copper.

Then Fate leaned closer again.

Reflexively, the brunette braced herself and stiffened.

It made Fate pause, but only for a moment. The grip on Nanoha's wrists loosened.

Words were whispered against her mouth.

"If you don't want this..." _If you don't want me to hurt you_, "...leave, now."

Dark burgundy, blank and cool, pierced into her own.

Her heart hammered against her chest, and she could hear it pounding so loudly in her ears. And her mind was whirling. Did Fate say what she _just_ said?

But still Nanoha dared.

"...If I do?" No, she didn't. She was afraid. So terribly afraid of this sudden aggressiveness, and she was trembling. But she knew she had to answer, or Fate would be forever lost to her.

And she was even more afraid of the stirring in her own heart, a mix of anticipation and fear. _Was Fate really just a best friend? _

Anger and amusement both flickered past darkening red eyes.

"You're...a bad liar."

The whisper was so faint that Nanoha had to strain her ears to hear it, and then her neck was nuzzled lightly. Warm breath blew onto skin, and gold strands of hair tickled the side of her face. It made her tense, and Fate stopped, as if sensing that.

"...You are afraid," the blonde said, quietly, lips still hovering above her skin. That voice was oddly bland and almost cold.

"No," she bit out; her tone impressively calm, even as her heart raced. "I'm not."

Fate laughed, softly. _Mockingly._

A hand moved to press against her breast with a lover's touch (and she felt herself freeze), brushing over fabric lightly. "Yes. You are. The heart doesn't lie, Nanoha."

She couldn't reply. That touch and those words only served to make her dumbstruck, and her heart pounded against her chest even _faster_.

And for Fate, her silence was a good enough answer.

Then Fate leaned against her, resting her head on Nanoha's shoulder. It shook her out of her stupor.

"...Fate...chan..?"

A pause.

Then the blonde spoke, with words so soft that Nanoha could barely hear.

"...Are you still going to say...yes?"

And suddenly her throat was locked and dry.

She could feel the warmth of that palm which was pressed on her middle. And she could still taste the rawness in her mouth, which the taller girl had explored so hungrily moments ago.

But the tight grip of moments before had loosened so much it may as well not be called a hold.

The blonde was waiting for an answer, she realized bleakly.

And it wasn't just any answer Fate was waiting for; she was waiting for a _no_.

Just for that, just for Fate's little lack of faith, anger stirred in Nanoha, and she ground out through gritted teeth. "Yes. _Yes_, Fate."

That bandaged hand that held her wrist tightened slightly.

But Fate did not move.

Silence.

A silence that went on for so long that Nanoha felt her anger dissipate, replaced by hesitation.

"Fate...chan..?"

The blonde moved then, grasping her by the waist, legs; pulled her into a possessive grip, so quickly that Nanoha could not react, and then she was suddenly lying on the bed with the blonde above her, a mouth pressed hard against her own.

A hand tugged at her ribbon, pulling it off her collar easily; and then fingers were unbuttoning her shirt, placing a feather light caress on her skin, and a cold shiver went down her spine.

She did not move.

She could _barely_ move, stiff as a rock.

And despite the cool autumn weather, it was - her eyes had squeezed shut when hands (invasive yet pleasant) roamed over her, those lips posessing hers - suddenly warm. Too warm.

Never had she been held this way before.

Fate moved away from her raw, ravished mouth and towards her neck, teeth grazing lightly; and the chill from warm moisture cooled by the air made her tremble.

The blonde stopped then, all of a sudden.

Stopped for one long moment.

It was long enough to make Nanoha relax a little, despite flushing cheeks and ragged breathing.

"..Fate...?"

Red pierced into blue.

A dark, dark red, with so much need and desire and _pain_.

"...Leave." Fate whispered, hoarsely. Burgundy eyes squeezed shut, even though the blonde did not move from her position. "Leave. _Now_." Barely controlled hunger. And fear. _Fear of herself._

"Fate..."

"_Please_."

Desperation.

But she couldn't leave, could she?

_Because to leave would mean to destroy what was left of Fate._

And did she want to leave, really?

She didn't know. It was all too new, too sudden.

Nanoha watched the trembling figure above her, feeling oddly calm and strangely at peace.

Then she reached up, hesitantly, to grasp the blonde's face with both hands.

She only saw despairing, tortured red eyes that opened to meet hers briefly - _and no, she did not want to see that_ - so Nanoha shut her own eyes, not seeing the surprise and shock that overtook the pain when she pressed their lips together, but she knew (somehow) that they were there.

Fate froze.

But only for a second.

The response was almost instantaneous.

Eyes and hands and lips wandered, sometimes gentle, sometimes harsh, sometimes awkward, sometimes almost painful (almost, because Fate somehow _always_ restrained herself); touching her in ways and places no one ever did.

And sometimes it _did_ hurt, and not just because of physical roughness and soreness (it was the pain in those _eyes_), but then the touches that followed after always made her forget.

Nanoha felt her scar throbbing dully.

The scar on her middle; front (two inches, some centimeters below her heart) and back (below her shoulder blades, going down her spine at least five inches), from when she was pierced five years ago.

Fate's hand - the bandaged one - was wrapped around her waist; she felt the rough texture of cloth against her sensitive skin, and she was pulled up and pressed against another warm body, and fingers were tracing the rough, long bump past her spine.

Then a tongue, on her front, creating (branding her with) hot and cold marks that overlapped the scar; as if trying to _taste_ the pain that Nanoha had felt those years ago.

Her eyes shut (not wanting to see what Fate was _doing_ to her), and her hands curled around Fate, tangling with blonde hair.

The sensation of _everything_ was so strange and violating and comforting all at once.

She was surrounded by dark, dark red (like blood) eyes in her mind, and all she could feel was the pain (that Fate was feeling) and the _desire_ (that she never realized was there) and scorching flames (that she never knew were in her); all of which that created ineradicable marks on her.

And she trembled involuntarily despite it all.

Those eyes - that soft, gentle gaze belonging to Fate; they had always made her warm. Safe. Protected. Comfortable.

Now, they were conflicting images of steel and fragility.

She was trembling involuntarily.

She didn't know why, but she was.

-o-

A/N: Okay, I caved in. _-grimaces-_ This is part one of two, and part two is pending until...I'm done with the last scene or two. Which I can't seem to write. But this has been collecting dust for...more than three months?

I am...ironically, morbidly amused. A little freak accident just yesterday that could potentially give me a bad concussion and put me in the hospital was what made me decide to post this. Why, I have no idea. Don't ask, because I'm going to give you a blank look and a shrug.

So - yes, some of you who had been hoping to see this got your wish - Nanoha's version of this story. In particular, I'd like to thank (or growl) at guubear for inspiring me to write this. Nonetheless, it may be a while more before the posting of part 2 come. I'm having trouble figuring out...Nanoha.

I have a feeling that my writing style doesn't quite match with Nanoha's...pace, as well. You may notice that I added in a fair bit more details than usual. Mm...yeah, Nanoha's the kind of character where one would need details to write her. But that's just what I think, though. However, I'm not used to adding a lot of details, so...hopefully it looks fine.

At any rate, some of you may notice (if you read back old fics) that a lot of fics have been rendered unreadable by this site's new fiddling. This includes mine. You have my apologies if you find them difficult to read, but at the moment, there is only so much time I can and am willing to spare. FFnet has tested my patience a lot, and these few days I have _very_ little patience remaining. I will edit them, yes. But in my own time. TBS and Stigma are the only ones fixed so far. I will also be looking around for a second home to put my fics - or if not, they will likely end up in my LJ. Suggestions on where to go are also most welcome.

In other words, the next time FFnet screws up again (why do I feel that it's a high possibility?), that's it. Fics will be stripped from this account, and I will no longer post here.

And yes, I know it's not the best looking scene-breaker, but it will have to do till I figure out a better one. And no, I refuse to use that god forbid ugly black line.

On the other topic - my decision to stop writing is still pending. I haven't really been writing much either, to be honest. A lot of things to settle and...stuff. Well.

Hope the fic's been enjoyable so far. Reviews are most welcome, and most inspiring. :p

-Eagle


	3. Nanoha: Part II

Posted: 13/09/2008

-o-

_**Stigma  
**Nanoha: Part II  
_

_"Dark Chariot"  
- Peer Raben, 2046._

-o-

Later, she had woken up feeling groggy and tired and _sore_.

But she had not forgotten, even for the briefest instant.

From the corner of her eyes, she had caught sight of Fate, back resting against the wall. The blonde's face was buried in a palm, and her elbow rested against her knee that was covered with blanket.

The blonde wasn't asleep, she could tell.

Because a dangerous amount of remorse literally _radiated_ from the girl.

And Nanoha found a sudden urge to tell her that she shouldn't regret it.

Then the touches and kisses from last night whirled back into her mind, and the words she wanted to say were suddenly lost. Her throat was almost painfully dry, her face flushed and red, her heart hammered against her chest, and she could do nothing but tremble involuntarily.

She tried to calm down, and she did, just a little; pushing herself up and against the cold bed railings, she felt the cold autumn air quickly enough, and pulled the sheet up to cover her.

The coldness subsided.

But the lingering touches from last night did not.

Being so very aware of the girl who held her the way no one else had (who was just some steps away from her) did _not_ help, and her eyes shut; unwilling to look at the room and the clothes thrown carelessly to the floor, unable to look at the girl who did _this_ to her.

In her mind, she was remembering what happened. Vividly.

Eyes the color of wine and maple.

Of molten blood.

Blood.

Filled with so much confusion and pain, a gaze so sharp and piercing that saw through her so easily...

...And those eyes just seemed to ask _why the goddamn hell was she here._

Just like that, a few hours went by in silence.

A silence that spoke of so much.

Then her phone rang.

Her head snapped up, and she stared (blankly) at her blinking pink cell phone, which continued to hum its tune.

She moved before she realized, standing up; and felt - _those burgundy eyes piercing into her -_ the sharp, biting cold.

Somehow she restrained herself from shivering, both from the chilly air and that _burning_ gaze. She picked up her shirt that was on the floor, below some other garments, slipped it over herself - her only protection against the cold (and those eyes) - and picked up the phone.

When she saw the name on the screen, she cursed under her breath.

_Beep_.

"...Yes? Nanoha here."

"_Nanoha-chan?_" Momoko's worried voice came. "_Where are you?"_

The brunette grimaced.

"Fate-chan's...apartment. I'm sorry, I..." _had sex with my best friend. _"...forgot to inform...you."

She wasn't lying.

Her mother paused at that. Momoko knew enough to make reasonable conclusions about her lack of contact.

Nanoha wasn't entirely sure how her mother would react if she told her, literally, what had happened.

Then Momoko sighed. "..._Alright. Be careful next time...and don't forget again!"_

"Aa," the brunette nodded, even though her mother could not see it.

"_How's Fate-chan?"_ Concern. Sympathy.

It was Nanoha's turn to pause.

She wasn't entirely sure how to answer that either.

And she could _still_ feel a pair of eyes stripping her bare, even with her shirt still on.

"...Managing," Nanoha said at last, voice faltering slightly. Managing.

Yes, Fate was...managing. _Through her._

"She's..." The brunette forced the words out of her locked throat. "...Resting - " _Brooding? Regretting? _ " - now. And I will be back...later, okay?"

"_Mm...okay. And then..."_

She listened to the rest half-heartedly.

By the time goodbyes were exchanged, the brunette's mind had already ventured back to Fate.

The phone was placed back on the table.

Nanoha suddenly wished the phone call had not ended, because she had just realized that she would have to turn to meet Fate's gaze; and she did not know what to say, or how to react.

So she didn't turn. Couldn't turn.

She didn't have to turn at all, when hands were suddenly wrapped around her shoulders, back pressed against another warm body (she could feel the curves and bumps through her thin shirt) and she stiffened.

For a moment, one very brief moment, she had wondered if Fate wanted more. More of _that_. The thought of it made her tense involuntarily, and she _knew_ she wasn't ready.

But Fate hadn't moved, and Nanoha reached out, hesitantly, to grasp at those arms around her.

"F-Fate...?"

The hold tightened.

And then the question she did not expect came.

"Do you hate me?"

The surprise almost made her jerk, and her reply was reflexive. "No! No, I..." A falter. Her hands trembled. Her mind whirled. Was that what the blonde had been thinking about earlier? Was that why she had felt so much _remorse_ coming from her?

Anger was stirring, and the sudden sadness she felt made her choke on her words.

Her voice was hoarse and trembling. "...How could you think that?"

But Fate did not answer that.

"Let me take care of you."

Nanoha stopped at that, and blinked. She was too caught off-guard not to.

What did Fate say?

"I...Fate...?" Her voice faltered, perplexed at that request. Or was she hearing things?

"Let me take care of you." Hands tightened around her.

This time her pause was longer.

She didn't really understand what Fate meant by those words. She was also perfectly capable of taking care of herself.

Fate would know this just as well.

And yet, all at once, she felt herself soften, anger dissipating, and she sighed.

She leaned into the hold, an involuntary smile curling on her lips. "That's not necessary, you know."

"Let me take care of you," the insistent request came. Almost desperate.

"Fate-chan..."

"_Please_."

She couldn't deny her, could she?

And even if she did, she didn't know what she would be denying.

Nanoha sighed again, and she turned to wrap her own hands around Fate's waist. Her full weight leaned against the blonde, and she felt herself relaxing almost by instinct, and she pressed closer, burying her face into the crook of Fate's neck.

And after a moment, she voiced her agreement. Her voice was wavering and uncertain.

But it was an agreement, nonetheless.

Fate was silent at that. But then again, Fate had always been quiet; and her silence often said things that would never be said with words.

Nanoha did not understand the significance of her consent, nor did she know how much it would affect them.

But she knew it meant everything to Fate.

And that was a good (_terrifying) _enough reason for Nanoha to say yes.

Just how much power did _she_ hold over Fate Testarossa, exactly?

-o-

Ragged breathing.

She was awake in an instant, hands automatically reaching for the shaking girl beside her.

Another nightmare...

Her eyebrows creased.

She pulled Fate into a tight hold, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear.

The blonde relaxed almost instantly, and yet, at the same time, she seemed to stiffen, as if the hug was foreign and strange.

Sometimes, or so Nanoha had realized, depending on how bad the nightmare was, Fate would have different reactions.

A few times Fate had resisted before she caught herself and _remembered_. Sometimes she didn't. Sometimes all it took was just a bit of coaxing, but there were times when Nanoha had to literally pin the girl and force her to calm down.

And sometimes, the blonde would end up crying. Sometimes, Fate would just curl up into a ball, staying close but not latching onto her; and other times, she just let Nanoha pull her into a tight, reassuring hug.

Each and every time, though, similar words would leave her mouth.

Her fault. She killed him. She should have realized. She should have retracted Bardiche. She should have done this, done that, done this, done that...

Nanoha's effort to stop her had sometimes proved _beyond_ futile, because those times, the final blow in those words always made her _shut up_ and unable to meet Fate in the eyes.

_I shouldn't have forced myself on you!_

She wanted to tell the blonde so badly that it wasn't true, but every time her eyes locked onto those piercing, intense dark red ones, she just _couldn't_ say anything.

Those times, all she could do was press her lips against Fate's, give herself to _her_ and_ take_; Fate often resisted, and sometimes Nanoha just let it end there, but other times (when the nightmares were very, very bad), she pushed and pushed until the blonde responded fully.

She did tremble, despite it all.

But it got easier each time.

There were some moments when she wondered what all of it meant.

Were they friends?

Just friends...with benefits?

Or lovers?

She no longer knew what and how to label their odd relationship.

Some weeks later, it was obvious that Fate had reached her limit.

Nanoha wasn't surprised to see an outburst coming from Fate; she had known it was coming sooner or later, with the way those red eyes seemed to ask _incomprehensible_ questions (the same questions that were unspoken but _there_ when Fate kissed her for the first time).

So she had waited, because she knew there was only so far and so much she could push the other girl for answers.

But that didn't mean she wasn't surprised at _what_ the question was.

"Why don't you just _give up_?"

Give up?

That question stung like a knife piercing into her.

Even worse, the very idea of them arguing over that matter hurt even more.

She had to stop herself from accusing Fate of how dense the blonde was, take in a deep breath, and reply with a question of her own.

"Why should _I_?" Her eyebrows narrowed and a little - _mocking_ - smile formed on her face, daring the blonde to answer her.

The answers that shot out from Fate's mouth had astounded her.

Clone, fake, killer, rapist...

And worst of all, she hurt _her_.

For a moment, Nanoha couldn't reply, at a loss of words. How long had Fate been thinking - no,_ torturing -_ herself like that? She couldn't believe it. That was what Fate had thought?

She took in another deep breath, willing herself to calm down. An outburst of her own would have only made the situation worse, and she knew it. She did have a counter of her own, because it was as plain as day that Fate was acting irrationally; and vindication soared when Fate fell silent, but that did not mean Nanoha was happy, because she had no retort for the statement about being hurt.

She was hurt, very much so, and that was because Fate was blaming herself for _everything_.

She had _chosen_ to stay, and it wasn't just once or twice (it was thrice) that the blonde had given her the option of leaving, and she did not.

Hadn't Fate realized that yet?

...No, apparently.

Not at all.

So she did tell her that she _was_ hurt.

Fate reacted with silence, she _always_ reacted with silence when faced with these things, but the flash of emotion in those burgundy eyes told Nanoha everything she wanted to know, and she felt a faint satisfaction amidst the anger rising deep in her.

And before Fate could move (she was expecting her to escape), she held her elbow in a tight grip, pulled her down, and watched shock go past those eyes with her next words.

"As long as you won't forgive yourself," her gaze was hard, and her tone furious but calm, "you will continue to hurt me."

The astonishment written on Fate's features and the way the blonde had frozen would have been amusing if Nanoha hadn't been so angry.

Never thought of that, did she?

That instant, Nanoha decided she did not want Fate's attention going elsewhere or anywhere back to the issues they were arguing (was it _even_ an argument?), because she _knew_ Fate would only end up torturing and berating herself about it.

And so she tugged the blonde down with a hand reaching around her head, and crushed their lips together.

-o-

Nothing had gone right since the day blood was upon Fate's hands.

Nanoha could not even begin to comprehend the feeling of having killed someone, because she never had the chance.

And because of that, sometimes, she felt like they were drifting apart.

In some ways, she supposed, they _had_ already drifted apart.

Despite Fate's effort to live, _truly live_, Nanoha _did_ know better.

The blonde could smile, laugh, joke, but she _knew_.

The hardened look in burgundy eyes when faced with missions, the flickers of shadows in her gaze, and the distant look on her face when she thought she was alone sometimes. There were even a few times when Nanoha had seen her pause and blank out, staring at her own hands as if she was seeing them for the first time.

It was those few times when Nanoha found that she could not bring herself to intrude.

Because she knew nothing good would come from her advice.

Because she _didn't _know how it_ felt_.

Nanoha watched Fate. In front of her was the cool, calm and confident Fate Testarossa Harlaown; but there was a shadow of hesitance that she caught - so similar to the time when they were nine years old again; as if Fate was still the innocent, naive and awkward girl, and Nanoha was the ever-bright sunshine that brought a variety of colors into Fate's life.

A part of her wondered if it was still that way.

She couldn't shake off the feeling - _the doubt_ - wrenching her heart.

In some ways, she did understand Fate. But in some others, she no longer did.

And yet...

"Nanoha..?"

She snapped out of her train of thought.

"Hmm?"

The blonde paused, studying her features.

"Is something bothering you?"

Nanoha smiled.

Yes. Fate had healed. The blonde had scarred, but that was unavoidable.

Fate had healed.

That was all that mattered.

Nanoha reached for the other's hand then, thumb brushing over the roughness on the knuckle.

"It's nothing, Fate-chan."

Her lips brushed over the faint scar. It was something she had done many times now, as it was the only way she could voice her relief - because she no longer knew how to describe it in words. She just plainly did not know how to tell Fate, in words, that she was glad. She had tried, but then it felt so empty, and Fate would grace her with a look of confusion.

The brunette knew it was partly because of the fact she no longer understood Fate.

She pressed Fate's palm to her own cheek, and felt the gentle warmth coursing through it.

Warm.

All at once, she felt the tension from her shoulders fade.

It was real.

This was real.

And that was all that mattered.

So she smiled a smile that was meant for her alone.

-o-

A/N:

End.

I am now officially on hiatus. Some of you may have been expecting this, prior to notices I've given before. And yes, this is something I have considered for a long time. But being me, I was indecisive as usual. I told myself that I would make a stand when I post this; when _Stigma_ is completed. And yes. I am now.

Admittedly...it took me a long time before I was able to write this last scene for _Stigma_. I won't say I know if this is really how Nanoha thinks. Honestly, I don't know at all. I'm the sort of person who writes and think later, despite the fact that my personality may scream think first, _carefully_, and do next. With writing, I just seem to throw all caution to the wind, and this was the end product.

This fiction was finished on the 23rd of August, shortly after I was done with RoE. And with this, I have cleared all backlogs of MGLN fictions with the exception of _Ignis Fatuus_, _Expiation _and _Impasse _- all of which are long fictions, and will possibly take a ridiculously long time even if I try to update them. The last, still-in-planning long fiction, whose tentative title is _Broken Glass_, will be paused indefinitely. _Ignis Fatuus,_ _Expiation_ and _Impasse_ will also be paused indefinitely. I do not know if I can update. I will not guarantee updates.

Drabbling in this fandom had been fun. Fun, and sometimes exhausting. It's probably because I find it so easy to relate to Fate. And that's also probably why I seemed to do better in MGLN compared to other fandoms. It had been amusing at first; a kind of morbid, wicked irony, to have a character who seemed to be a mirror image of myself. Sometimes I think I'm writing myself and not Fate. And now...hmm. I wonder which is it?

Nonetheless. Things have gone wayward for too long, and it's about time I put a stop to them. To those of you who wanted me to continue writing - I'm sorry. To those of you who had reviewed, and/or remained a constant reviewer, you have my greatest thanks for your support. And to all of you, thank you for reading what I wrote.

A shout out to Enraptured, Hoppy-chan, Ray Venn Hakubi (I'm still looking forward to see an update from you, by the way), Syaoran Li Clow, BPHaru, KoSSa (I saw that site of yours, and I was - still am - flattered. Thanks.), Tsukiyasou, Digikaren (don't think I will be able to take on your offer of cookies and ice cream..), Icarisain, guubear and...I'm going to miss out a lot of people. I just know it. Well. I'm going to stop here before I get ahead of myself.

My thanks to all of you. It's been a good year. It feels like less than just a day when I look back now.

This is Aki, signing off.  
13/09/2008.


End file.
